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American Notes
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American Notes for General Circulation
by Charles Dickens
October, 1996 [Etext #675]
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American Notes for General Circulation by Charles Dickens Scanned and proofed by David Price email

American Notes for General Circulation
PREFACE TO THE FIRST CHEAP EDITION OF "AMERICAN NOTES"
IT is nearly eight years since this book was first published. I present it, unaltered, in the Cheap Edition; and
such of my opinions as it expresses, are quite unaltered too.
My readers have opportunities of judging for themselves whether the influences and tendencies which I
distrust in America, have any existence not in my imagination. They can examine for themselves whether
Information prepared by the Project Gutenberg legaladvisor 4
there has been anything in the public career of that country during these past eight years, or whether there is
anything in its present position, at home or abroad, which suggests that those influences and tendencies really
do exist. As they find the fact, they will judge me. If they discern any evidences of wrong- going in any

direction that I have indicated, they will acknowledge that I had reason in what I wrote. If they discern no
such thing, they will consider me altogether mistaken.
Prejudiced, I never have been otherwise than in favour of the United States. No visitor can ever have set foot
on those shores, with a stronger faith in the Republic than I had, when I landed in America.
I purposely abstain from extending these observations to any length. I have nothing to defend, or to explain
away. The truth is the truth; and neither childish absurdities, nor unscrupulous contradictions, can make it
otherwise. The earth would still move round the sun, though the whole Catholic Church said No.
I have many friends in America, and feel a grateful interest in the country. To represent me as viewing it with
ill-nature, animosity, or partisanship, is merely to do a very foolish thing, which is always a very easy one;
and which I have disregarded for eight years, and could disregard for eighty more.
LONDON, JUNE 22, 1850.
PREFACE TO THE "CHARLES DICKENS" EDITION OF "AMERICAN NOTES"
MY readers have opportunities of judging for themselves whether the influences and tendencies which I
distrusted in America, had, at that time, any existence but in my imagination. They can examine for
themselves whether there has been anything in the public career of that country since, at home or abroad,
which suggests that those influences and tendencies really did exist. As they find the fact, they will judge me.
If they discern any evidences of wrong-going, in any direction that I have indicated, they will acknowledge
that I had reason in what I wrote. If they discern no such indications, they will consider me altogether
mistaken - but not wilfully.
Prejudiced, I am not, and never have been, otherwise than in favour of the United States. I have many friends
in America, I feel a grateful interest in the country, I hope and believe it will successfully work out a problem
of the highest importance to the whole human race. To represent me as viewing AMERICA with ill- nature,
coldness, or animosity, is merely to do a very foolish thing: which is always a very easy one.
CHAPTER I
- GOING AWAY
I SHALL never forget the one-fourth serious and three-fourths comical astonishment, with which, on the
morning of the third of January eighteen-hundred-and-forty-two, I opened the door of, and put my head into, a
'state-room' on board the Britannia steam- packet, twelve hundred tons burthen per register, bound for Halifax
and Boston, and carrying Her Majesty's mails.
That this state-room had been specially engaged for 'Charles Dickens, Esquire, and Lady,' was rendered

sufficiently clear even to my scared intellect by a very small manuscript, announcing the fact, which was
pinned on a very flat quilt, covering a very thin mattress, spread like a surgical plaster on a most inaccessible
shelf. But that this was the state-room concerning which Charles Dickens, Esquire, and Lady, had held daily
and nightly conferences for at least four months preceding: that this could by any possibility be that small
CHAPTER I 5
snug chamber of the imagination, which Charles Dickens, Esquire, with the spirit of prophecy strong upon
him, had always foretold would contain at least one little sofa, and which his lady, with a modest yet most
magnificent sense of its limited dimensions, had from the first opined would not hold more than two
enormous portmanteaus in some odd corner out of sight (portmanteaus which could now no more be got in at
the door, not to say stowed away, than a giraffe could be persuaded or forced into a flower-pot): that this
utterly impracticable, thoroughly hopeless, and profoundly preposterous box, had the remotest reference to, or
connection with, those chaste and pretty, not to say gorgeous little bowers, sketched by a masterly hand, in the
highly varnished lithographic plan hanging up in the agent's counting-house in the city of London: that this
room of state, in short, could be anything but a pleasant fiction and cheerful jest of the captain's, invented and
put in practice for the better relish and enjoyment of the real state-room presently to be disclosed:- these were
truths which I really could not, for the moment, bring my mind at all to bear upon or comprehend. And I sat
down upon a kind of horsehair slab, or perch, of which there were two within; and looked, without any
expression of countenance whatever, at some friends who had come on board with us, and who were crushing
their faces into all manner of shapes by endeavouring to squeeze them through the small doorway.
We had experienced a pretty smart shock before coming below, which, but that we were the most sanguine
people living, might have prepared us for the worst. The imaginative artist to whom I have already made
allusion, has depicted in the same great work, a chamber of almost interminable perspective, furnished, as Mr.
Robins would say, in a style of more than Eastern splendour, and filled (but not inconveniently so) with
groups of ladies and gentlemen, in the very highest state of enjoyment and vivacity. Before descending into
the bowels of the ship, we had passed from the deck into a long narrow apartment, not unlike a gigantic hearse
with windows in the sides; having at the upper end a melancholy stove, at which three or four chilly stewards
were warming their hands; while on either side, extending down its whole dreary length, was a long, long
table, over each of which a rack, fixed to the low roof, and stuck full of drinking-glasses and cruet-stands,
hinted dismally at rolling seas and heavy weather. I had not at that time seen the ideal presentment of this
chamber which has since gratified me so much, but I observed that one of our friends who had made the

arrangements for our voyage, turned pale on entering, retreated on the friend behind him., smote his forehead
involuntarily, and said below his breath, 'Impossible! it cannot be!' or words to that effect. He recovered
himself however by a great effort, and after a preparatory cough or two, cried, with a ghastly smile which is
still before me, looking at the same time round the walls, 'Ha! the breakfast-room, steward - eh?' We all
foresaw what the answer must be: we knew the agony he suffered. He had often spoken of THE SALOON;
had taken in and lived upon the pictorial idea; had usually given us to understand, at home, that to form a just
conception of it, it would be necessary to multiply the size and furniture of an ordinary drawing-room by
seven, and then fall short of the reality. When the man in reply avowed the truth; the blunt, remorseless, naked
truth; 'This is the saloon, sir' - he actually reeled beneath the blow.
In persons who were so soon to part, and interpose between their else daily communication the formidable
barrier of many thousand miles of stormy space, and who were for that reason anxious to cast no other cloud,
not even the passing shadow of a moment's disappointment or discomfiture, upon the short interval of happy
companionship that yet remained to them - in persons so situated, the natural transition from these first
surprises was obviously into peals of hearty laughter, and I can report that I, for one, being still seated upon
the slab or perch before mentioned, roared outright until the vessel rang again. Thus, in less than two minutes
after coming upon it for the first time, we all by common consent agreed that this state-room was the
pleasantest and most facetious and capital contrivance possible; and that to have had it one inch larger, would
have been quite a disagreeable and deplorable state of things. And with this; and with showing how, - by very
nearly closing the door, and twining in and out like serpents, and by counting the little washing slab as
standing-room, - we could manage to insinuate four people into it, all at one time; and entreating each other to
observe how very airy it was (in dock), and how there was a beautiful port-hole which could be kept open all
day (weather permitting), and how there was quite a large bull's-eye just over the looking-glass which would
render shaving a perfectly easy and delightful process (when the ship didn't roll too much); we arrived, at last,
at the unanimous conclusion that it was rather spacious than otherwise: though I do verily believe that,
deducting the two berths, one above the other, than which nothing smaller for sleeping in was ever made
CHAPTER I 6
except coffins, it was no bigger than one of those hackney cabriolets which have the door behind, and shoot
their fares out, like sacks of coals, upon the pavement.
Having settled this point to the perfect satisfaction of all parties, concerned and unconcerned, we sat down
round the fire in the ladies' cabin - just to try the effect. It was rather dark, certainly; but somebody said, 'of

course it would be light, at sea,' a proposition to which we all assented; echoing 'of course, of course;' though
it would be exceedingly difficult to say why we thought so. I remember, too, when we had discovered and
exhausted another topic of consolation in the circumstance of this ladies' cabin adjoining our state-room, and
the consequently immense feasibility of sitting there at all times and seasons, and had fallen into a momentary
silence, leaning our faces on our hands and looking at the fire, one of our party said, with the solemn air of a
man who had made a discovery, 'What a relish mulled claret will have down here!' which appeared to strike us
all most forcibly; as though there were something spicy and high-flavoured in cabins, which essentially
improved that composition, and rendered it quite incapable of perfection anywhere else.
There was a stewardess, too, actively engaged in producing clean sheets and table-cloths from the very
entrails of the sofas, and from unexpected lockers, of such artful mechanism, that it made one's head ache to
see them opened one after another, and rendered it quite a distracting circumstance to follow her proceedings,
and to find that every nook and corner and individual piece of furniture was something else besides what it
pretended to be, and was a mere trap and deception and place of secret stowage, whose ostensible purpose was
its least useful one.
God bless that stewardess for her piously fraudulent account of January voyages! God bless her for her clear
recollection of the companion passage of last year, when nobody was ill, and everybody dancing from
morning to night, and it was 'a run' of twelve days, and a piece of the purest frolic, and delight, and jollity! All
happiness be with her for her bright face and her pleasant Scotch tongue, which had sounds of old Home in it
for my fellow-traveller; and for her predictions of fair winds and fine weather (all wrong, or I shouldn't be half
so fond of her); and for the ten thousand small fragments of genuine womanly tact, by which, without piecing
them elaborately together, and patching them up into shape and form and case and pointed application, she
nevertheless did plainly show that all young mothers on one side of the Atlantic were near and close at hand to
their little children left upon the other; and that what seemed to the uninitiated a serious journey, was, to those
who were in the secret, a mere frolic, to be sung about and whistled at! Light be her heart, and gay her merry
eyes, for years!
The state-room had grown pretty fast; but by this time it had expanded into something quite bulky, and almost
boasted a bay- window to view the sea from. So we went upon deck again in high spirits; and there,
everything was in such a state of bustle and active preparation, that the blood quickened its pace, and whirled
through one's veins on that clear frosty morning with involuntary mirthfulness. For every gallant ship was
riding slowly up and down, and every little boat was splashing noisily in the water; and knots of people stood

upon the wharf, gazing with a kind of 'dread delight' on the far-famed fast American steamer; and one party of
men were 'taking in the milk,' or, in other words, getting the cow on board; and another were filling the
icehouses to the very throat with fresh provisions; with butchers'-meat and garden-stuff, pale sucking-pigs,
calves' heads in scores, beef, veal, and pork, and poultry out of all proportion; and others were coiling ropes
and busy with oakum yarns; and others were lowering heavy packages into the hold; and the purser's head was
barely visible as it loomed in a state, of exquisite perplexity from the midst of a vast pile of passengers'
luggage; and there seemed to be nothing going on anywhere, or uppermost in the mind of anybody, but
preparations for this mighty voyage. This, with the bright cold sun, the bracing air, the crisply-curling water,
the thin white crust of morning ice upon the decks which crackled with a sharp and cheerful sound beneath the
lightest tread, was irresistible. And when, again upon the shore, we turned and saw from the vessel's mast her
name signalled in flags of joyous colours, and fluttering by their side the beautiful American banner with its
stars and stripes, - the long three thousand miles and more, and, longer still, the six whole months of absence,
so dwindled and faded, that the ship had gone out and come home again, and it was broad spring already in
the Coburg Dock at Liverpool.
CHAPTER I 7
I have not inquired among my medical acquaintance, whether Turtle, and cold Punch, with Hock, Champagne,
and Claret, and all the slight et cetera usually included in an unlimited order for a good dinner - especially
when it is left to the liberal construction of my faultless friend, Mr. Radley, of the Adelphi Hotel - are
peculiarly calculated to suffer a sea-change; or whether a plain mutton-chop, and a glass or two of sherry,
would be less likely of conversion into foreign and disconcerting material. My own opinion is, that whether
one is discreet or indiscreet in these particulars, on the eve of a sea-voyage, is a matter of little consequence;
and that, to use a common phrase, 'it comes to very much the same thing in the end.' Be this as it may, I know
that the dinner of that day was undeniably perfect; that it comprehended all these items, and a great many
more; and that we all did ample justice to it. And I know too, that, bating a certain tacit avoidance of any
allusion to to-morrow; such as may be supposed to prevail between delicate-minded turnkeys, and a sensitive
prisoner who is to be hanged next morning; we got on very well, and, all things considered, were merry
enough.
When the morning - THE morning - came, and we met at breakfast, it was curious to see how eager we all
were to prevent a moment's pause in the conversation, and how astoundingly gay everybody was: the forced
spirits of each member of the little party having as much likeness to his natural mirth, as hot-house peas at

five guineas the quart, resemble in flavour the growth of the dews, and air, and rain of Heaven. But as one
o'clock, the hour for going aboard, drew near, this volubility dwindled away by little and little, despite the
most persevering efforts to the contrary, until at last, the matter being now quite desperate, we threw off all
disguise; openly speculated upon where we should be this time to- morrow, this time next day, and so forth;
and entrusted a vast number of messages to those who intended returning to town that night, which were to be
delivered at home and elsewhere without fail, within the very shortest possible space of time after the arrival
of the railway train at Euston Square. And commissions and remembrances do so crowd upon one at such a
time, that we were still busied with this employment when we found ourselves fused, as it were, into a dense
conglomeration of passengers and passengers' friends and passengers' luggage, all jumbled together on the
deck of a small steamboat, and panting and snorting off to the packet, which had worked out of dock
yesterday afternoon and was now lying at her moorings in the river.
And there she is! all eyes are turned to where she lies, dimly discernible through the gathering fog of the early
winter afternoon; every finger is pointed in the same direction; and murmurs of interest and admiration - as
'How beautiful she looks!' 'How trim she is!' - are heard on every side. Even the lazy gentleman with his hat
on one side and his hands in his pockets, who has dispensed so much consolation by inquiring with a yawn of
another gentleman whether he is 'going across' - as if it were a ferry - even he condescends to look that way,
and nod his head, as who should say, 'No mistake about THAT:' and not even the sage Lord Burleigh in his
nod, included half so much as this lazy gentleman of might who has made the passage (as everybody on board
has found out already; it's impossible to say how) thirteen times without a single accident! There is another
passenger very much wrapped-up, who has been frowned down by the rest, and morally trampled upon and
crushed, for presuming to inquire with a timid interest how long it is since the poor President went down. He
is standing close to the lazy gentleman, and says with a faint smile that he believes She is a very strong Ship;
to which the lazy gentleman, looking first in his questioner's eye and then very hard in the wind's, answers
unexpectedly and ominously, that She need be. Upon this the lazy gentleman instantly falls very low in the
popular estimation, and the passengers, with looks of defiance, whisper to each other that he is an ass, and an
impostor, and clearly don't know anything at all about it.
But we are made fast alongside the packet, whose huge red funnel is smoking bravely, giving rich promise of
serious intentions. Packing-cases, portmanteaus, carpet-bags, and boxes, are already passed from hand to
hand, and hauled on board with breathless rapidity. The officers, smartly dressed, are at the gangway handing
the passengers up the side, and hurrying the men. In five minutes' time, the little steamer is utterly deserted,

and the packet is beset and over-run by its late freight, who instantly pervade the whole ship, and are to be met
with by the dozen in every nook and corner: swarming down below with their own baggage, and stumbling
over other people's; disposing themselves comfortably in wrong cabins, and creating a most horrible
confusion by having to turn out again; madly bent upon opening locked doors, and on forcing a passage into
CHAPTER I 8
all kinds of out-of-the-way places where there is no thoroughfare; sending wild stewards, with elfin hair, to
and fro upon the breezy decks on unintelligible errands, impossible of execution: and in short, creating the
most extraordinary and bewildering tumult. In the midst of all this, the lazy gentleman, who seems to have no
luggage of any kind - not so much as a friend, even - lounges up and down the hurricane deck, coolly puffing
a cigar; and, as this unconcerned demeanour again exalts him in the opinion of those who have leisure to
observe his proceedings, every time he looks up at the masts, or down at the decks, or over the side, they look
there too, as wondering whether he sees anything wrong anywhere, and hoping that, in case he should, he will
have the goodness to mention it.
What have we here? The captain's boat! and yonder the captain himself. Now, by all our hopes and wishes,
the very man he ought to be! A well-made, tight-built, dapper little fellow; with a ruddy face, which is a letter
of invitation to shake him by both hands at once; and with a clear, blue honest eye, that it does one good to see
one's sparkling image in. 'Ring the bell!' 'Ding, ding, ding!' the very bell is in a hurry. 'Now for the shore -
who's for the shore?' - 'These gentlemen, I am sorry to say.' They are away, and never said, Good b'ye. Ah
now they wave it from the little boat. 'Good b'ye! Good b'ye!' Three cheers from them; three more from us;
three more from them: and they are gone.
To and fro, to and fro, to and fro again a hundred times! This waiting for the latest mail-bags is worse than all.
If we could have gone off in the midst of that last burst, we should have started triumphantly: but to lie here,
two hours and more in the damp fog, neither staying at home nor going abroad, is letting one gradually down
into the very depths of dulness and low spirits. A speck in the mist, at last! That's something. It is the boat we
wait for! That's more to the purpose. The captain appears on the paddle-box with his speaking trumpet; the
officers take their stations; all hands are on the alert; the flagging hopes of the passengers revive; the cooks
pause in their savoury work, and look out with faces full of interest. The boat comes alongside; the bags are
dragged in anyhow, and flung down for the moment anywhere. Three cheers more: and as the first one rings
upon our ears, the vessel throbs like a strong giant that has just received the breath of life; the two great
wheels turn fiercely round for the first time; and the noble ship, with wind and tide astern, breaks proudly

through the lashed and roaming water.
CHAPTER II
- THE PASSAGE OUT
WE all dined together that day; and a rather formidable party we were: no fewer than eighty-six strong. The
vessel being pretty deep in the water, with all her coals on board and so many passengers, and the weather
being calm and quiet, there was but little motion; so that before the dinner was half over, even those
passengers who were most distrustful of themselves plucked up amazingly; and those who in the morning had
returned to the universal question, 'Are you a good sailor?' a very decided negative, now either parried the
inquiry with the evasive reply, 'Oh! I suppose I'm no worse than anybody else;' or, reckless of all moral
obligations, answered boldly 'Yes:' and with some irritation too, as though they would add, 'I should like to
know what you see in ME, sir, particularly, to justify suspicion!'
Notwithstanding this high tone of courage and confidence, I could not but observe that very few remained
long over their wine; and that everybody had an unusual love of the open air; and that the favourite and most
coveted seats were invariably those nearest to the door. The tea-table, too, was by no means as well attended
as the dinner-table; and there was less whist-playing than might have been expected. Still, with the exception
of one lady, who had retired with some precipitation at dinner-time, immediately after being assisted to the
finest cut of a very yellow boiled leg of mutton with very green capers, there were no invalids as yet; and
walking, and smoking, and drinking of brandy-and-water (but always in the open air), went on with unabated
CHAPTER II 9
spirit, until eleven o'clock or thereabouts, when 'turning in' - no sailor of seven hours' experience talks of
going to bed - became the order of the night. The perpetual tramp of boot-heels on the decks gave place to a
heavy silence, and the whole human freight was stowed away below, excepting a very few stragglers, like
myself, who were probably, like me, afraid to go there.
To one unaccustomed to such scenes, this is a very striking time on shipboard. Afterwards, and when its
novelty had long worn off, it never ceased to have a peculiar interest and charm for me. The gloom through
which the great black mass holds its direct and certain course; the rushing water, plainly heard, but dimly
seen; the broad, white, glistening track, that follows in the vessel's wake; the men on the look-out forward,
who would be scarcely visible against the dark sky, but for their blotting out some score of glistening stars;
the helmsman at the wheel, with the illuminated card before him, shining, a speck of light amidst the
darkness, like something sentient and of Divine intelligence; the melancholy sighing of the wind through

block, and rope, and chain; the gleaming forth of light from every crevice, nook, and tiny piece of glass about
the decks, as though the ship were filled with fire in hiding, ready to burst through any outlet, wild with its
resistless power of death and ruin. At first, too, and even when the hour, and all the objects it exalts, have
come to be familiar, it is difficult, alone and thoughtful, to hold them to their proper shapes and forms. They
change with the wandering fancy; assume the semblance of things left far away; put on the well-remembered
aspect of favourite places dearly loved; and even people them with shadows. Streets, houses, rooms; figures
so like their usual occupants, that they have startled me by their reality, which far exceeded, as it seemed to
me, all power of mine to conjure up the absent; have, many and many a time, at such an hour, grown suddenly
out of objects with whose real look, and use, and purpose, I was as well acquainted as with my own two
hands.
My own two hands, and feet likewise, being very cold, however, on this particular occasion, I crept below at
midnight. It was not exactly comfortable below. It was decidedly close; and it was impossible to be
unconscious of the presence of that extraordinary compound of strange smells, which is to be found nowhere
but on board ship, and which is such a subtle perfume that it seems to enter at every pore of the skin, and
whisper of the hold. Two passengers' wives (one of them my own) lay already in silent agonies on the sofa;
and one lady's maid (MY lady's) was a mere bundle on the floor, execrating her destiny, and pounding her
curl- papers among the stray boxes. Everything sloped the wrong way: which in itself was an aggravation
scarcely to be borne. I had left the door open, a moment before, in the bosom of a gentle declivity, and, when I
turned to shut it, it was on the summit of a lofty eminence. Now every plank and timber creaked, as if the ship
were made of wicker-work; and now crackled, like an enormous fire of the driest possible twigs. There was
nothing for it but bed; so I went to bed.
It was pretty much the same for the next two days, with a tolerably fair wind and dry weather. I read in bed
(but to this hour I don't know what) a good deal; and reeled on deck a little; drank cold brandy-and-water with
an unspeakable disgust, and ate hard biscuit perseveringly: not ill, but going to be.
It is the third morning. I am awakened out of my sleep by a dismal shriek from my wife, who demands to
know whether there's any danger. I rouse myself, and look out of bed. The water-jug is plunging and leaping
like a lively dolphin; all the smaller articles are afloat, except my shoes, which are stranded on a carpet-bag,
high and dry, like a couple of coal-barges. Suddenly I see them spring into the air, and behold the
looking-glass, which is nailed to the wall, sticking fast upon the ceiling. At the same time the door entirely
disappears, and a new one is opened in the floor. Then I begin to comprehend that the state-room is standing

on its head.
Before it is possible to make any arrangement at all compatible with this novel state of things, the ship rights.
Before one can say 'Thank Heaven!' she wrongs again. Before one can cry she IS wrong, she seems to have
started forward, and to be a creature actually running of its own accord, with broken knees and failing legs,
through every variety of hole and pitfall, and stumbling constantly. Before one can so much as wonder, she
takes a high leap into the air. Before she has well done that, she takes a deep dive into the water. Before she
CHAPTER II 10
has gained the surface, she throws a summerset. The instant she is on her legs, she rushes backward. And so
she goes on staggering, heaving, wrestling, leaping, diving, jumping, pitching, throbbing, rolling, and rocking:
and going through all these movements, sometimes by turns, and sometimes altogether: until one feels
disposed to roar for mercy.
A steward passes. 'Steward!' 'Sir?' 'What IS the matter? what DO you call this?' 'Rather a heavy sea on, sir,
and a head-wind.'
A head-wind! Imagine a human face upon the vessel's prow, with fifteen thousand Samsons in one bent upon
driving her back, and hitting her exactly between the eyes whenever she attempts to advance an inch. Imagine
the ship herself, with every pulse and artery of her huge body swollen and bursting under this maltreatment,
sworn to go on or die. Imagine the wind howling, the sea roaring, the rain beating: all in furious array against
her. Picture the sky both dark and wild, and the clouds, in fearful sympathy with the waves, making another
ocean in the air. Add to all this, the clattering on deck and down below; the tread of hurried feet; the loud
hoarse shouts of seamen; the gurgling in and out of water through the scuppers; with, every now and then, the
striking of a heavy sea upon the planks above, with the deep, dead, heavy sound of thunder heard within a
vault; - and there is the head-wind of that January morning.
I say nothing of what may be called the domestic noises of the ship: such as the breaking of glass and
crockery, the tumbling down of stewards, the gambols, overhead, of loose casks and truant dozens of bottled
porter, and the very remarkable and far from exhilarating sounds raised in their various state-rooms by the
seventy passengers who were too ill to get up to breakfast. I say nothing of them: for although I lay listening
to this concert for three or four days, I don't think I heard it for more than a quarter of a minute, at the
expiration of which term, I lay down again, excessively sea-sick.
Not sea-sick, be it understood, in the ordinary acceptation of the term: I wish I had been: but in a form which I
have never seen or heard described, though I have no doubt it is very common. I lay there, all the day long,

quite coolly and contentedly; with no sense of weariness, with no desire to get up, or get better, or take the air;
with no curiosity, or care, or regret, of any sort or degree, saving that I think I can remember, in this universal
indifference, having a kind of lazy joy - of fiendish delight, if anything so lethargic can be dignified with the
title - in the fact of my wife being too ill to talk to me. If I may be allowed to illustrate my state of mind by
such an example, I should say that I was exactly in the condition of the elder Mr. Willet, after the incursion of
the rioters into his bar at Chigwell. Nothing would have surprised me. If, in the momentary illumination of
any ray of intelligence that may have come upon me in the way of thoughts of Home, a goblin postman, with
a scarlet coat and bell, had come into that little kennel before me, broad awake in broad day, and, apologising
for being damp through walking in the sea, had handed me a letter directed to myself, in familiar characters, I
am certain I should not have felt one atom of astonishment: I should have been perfectly satisfied. If Neptune
himself had walked in, with a toasted shark on his trident, I should have looked upon the event as one of the
very commonest everyday occurrences.
Once - once - I found myself on deck. I don't know how I got there, or what possessed me to go there, but
there I was; and completely dressed too, with a huge pea-coat on, and a pair of boots such as no weak man in
his senses could ever have got into. I found myself standing, when a gleam of consciousness came upon me,
holding on to something. I don't know what. I think it was the boatswain: or it may have been the pump: or
possibly the cow. I can't say how long I had been there; whether a day or a minute. I recollect trying to think
about something (about anything in the whole wide world, I was not particular) without the smallest effect. I
could not even make out which was the sea, and which the sky, for the horizon seemed drunk, and was flying
wildly about in all directions. Even in that incapable state, however, I recognised the lazy gentleman standing
before me: nautically clad in a suit of shaggy blue, with an oilskin hat. But I was too imbecile, although I
knew it to be he, to separate him from his dress; and tried to call him, I remember, PILOT. After another
interval of total unconsciousness, I found he had gone, and recognised another figure in its place. It seemed to
wave and fluctuate before me as though I saw it reflected in an unsteady looking-glass; but I knew it for the
CHAPTER II 11
captain; and such was the cheerful influence of his face, that I tried to smile: yes, even then I tried to smile. I
saw by his gestures that he addressed me; but it was a long time before I could make out that he remonstrated
against my standing up to my knees in water - as I was; of course I don't know why. I tried to thank him, but
couldn't. I could only point to my boots - or wherever I supposed my boots to be - and say in a plaintive voice,
'Cork soles:' at the same time endeavouring, I am told, to sit down in the pool. Finding that I was quite

insensible, and for the time a maniac, he humanely conducted me below.
There I remained until I got better: suffering, whenever I was recommended to eat anything, an amount of
anguish only second to that which is said to be endured by the apparently drowned, in the process of
restoration to life. One gentleman on board had a letter of introduction to me from a mutual friend in London.
He sent it below with his card, on the morning of the head-wind; and I was long troubled with the idea that he
might be up, and well, and a hundred times a day expecting me to call upon him in the saloon. I imagined him
one of those cast-iron images - I will not call them men - who ask, with red faces, and lusty voices, what
sea-sickness means, and whether it really is as bad as it is represented to be. This was very torturing indeed;
and I don't think I ever felt such perfect gratification and gratitude of heart, as I did when I heard from the
ship's doctor that he had been obliged to put a large mustard poultice on this very gentleman's stomach. I date
my recovery from the receipt of that intelligence.
It was materially assisted though, I have no doubt, by a heavy gale of wind, which came slowly up at sunset,
when we were about ten days out, and raged with gradually increasing fury until morning, saving that it lulled
for an hour a little before midnight. There was something in the unnatural repose of that hour, and in the after
gathering of the storm, so inconceivably awful and tremendous, that its bursting into full violence was almost
a relief.
The labouring of the ship in the troubled sea on this night I shall never forget. 'Will it ever be worse than this?'
was a question I had often heard asked, when everything was sliding and bumping about, and when it
certainly did seem difficult to comprehend the possibility of anything afloat being more disturbed, without
toppling over and going down. But what the agitation of a steam- vessel is, on a bad winter's night in the wild
Atlantic, it is impossible for the most vivid imagination to conceive. To say that she is flung down on her side
in the waves, with her masts dipping into them, and that, springing up again, she rolls over on the other side,
until a heavy sea strikes her with the noise of a hundred great guns, and hurls her back - that she stops, and
staggers, and shivers, as though stunned, and then, with a violent throbbing at her heart, darts onward like a
monster goaded into madness, to be beaten down, and battered, and crushed, and leaped on by the angry sea -
that thunder, lightning, hail, and rain, and wind, are all in fierce contention for the mastery - that every plank
has its groan, every nail its shriek, and every drop of water in the great ocean its howling voice - is nothing.
To say that all is grand, and all appalling and horrible in the last degree, is nothing. Words cannot express it.
Thoughts cannot convey it. Only a dream can call it up again, in all its fury, rage, and passion.
And yet, in the very midst of these terrors, I was placed in a situation so exquisitely ridiculous, that even then

I had as strong a sense of its absurdity as I have now, and could no more help laughing than I can at any other
comical incident, happening under circumstances the most favourable to its enjoyment. About midnight we
shipped a sea, which forced its way through the skylights, burst open the doors above, and came raging and
roaring down into the ladies' cabin, to the unspeakable consternation of my wife and a little Scotch lady - who,
by the way, had previously sent a message to the captain by the stewardess, requesting him, with her
compliments, to have a steel conductor immediately attached to the top of every mast, and to the chimney, in
order that the ship might not be struck by lightning. They and the handmaid before mentioned, being in such
ecstasies of fear that I scarcely knew what to do with them, I naturally bethought myself of some restorative or
comfortable cordial; and nothing better occurring to me, at the moment, than hot brandy-and-water, I procured
a tumbler full without delay. It being impossible to stand or sit without holding on, they were all heaped
together in one corner of a long sofa - a fixture extending entirely across the cabin - where they clung to each
other in momentary expectation of being drowned. When I approached this place with my specific, and was
about to administer it with many consolatory expressions to the nearest sufferer, what was my dismay to see
CHAPTER II 12
them all roll slowly down to the other end! And when I staggered to that end, and held out the glass once
more, how immensely baffled were my good intentions by the ship giving another lurch, and their all rolling
back again! I suppose I dodged them up and down this sofa for at least a quarter of an hour, without reaching
them once; and by the time I did catch them, the brandy-and-water was diminished, by constant spilling, to a
teaspoonful. To complete the group, it is necessary to recognise in this disconcerted dodger, an individual
very pale from sea- sickness, who had shaved his beard and brushed his hair, last, at Liverpool: and whose
only article of dress (linen not included) were a pair of dreadnought trousers; a blue jacket, formerly admired
upon the Thames at Richmond; no stockings; and one slipper.
Of the outrageous antics performed by that ship next morning; which made bed a practical joke, and getting
up, by any process short of falling out, an impossibility; I say nothing. But anything like the utter dreariness
and desolation that met my eyes when I literally 'tumbled up' on deck at noon, I never saw. Ocean and sky
were all of one dull, heavy, uniform, lead colour. There was no extent of prospect even over the dreary waste
that lay around us, for the sea ran high, and the horizon encompassed us like a large black hoop. Viewed from
the air, or some tall bluff on shore, it would have been imposing and stupendous, no doubt; but seen from the
wet and rolling decks, it only impressed one giddily and painfully. In the gale of last night the life-boat had
been crushed by one blow of the sea like a walnut-shell; and there it hung dangling in the air: a mere faggot of

crazy boards. The planking of the paddle-boxes had been torn sheer away. The wheels were exposed and bare;
and they whirled and dashed their spray about the decks at random. Chimney, white with crusted salt;
topmasts struck; storm-sails set; rigging all knotted, tangled, wet, and drooping: a gloomier picture it would be
hard to look upon.
I was now comfortably established by courtesy in the ladies' cabin, where, besides ourselves, there were only
four other passengers. First, the little Scotch lady before mentioned, on her way to join her husband at New
York, who had settled there three years before. Secondly and thirdly, an honest young Yorkshireman,
connected with some American house; domiciled in that same city, and carrying thither his beautiful young
wife to whom he had been married but a fortnight, and who was the fairest specimen of a comely English
country girl I have ever seen. Fourthy, fifthly, and lastly, another couple: newly married too, if one might
judge from the endearments they frequently interchanged: of whom I know no more than that they were rather
a mysterious, run-away kind of couple; that the lady had great personal attractions also; and that the
gentleman carried more guns with him than Robinson Crusoe, wore a shooting-coat, and had two great dogs
on board. On further consideration, I remember that he tried hot roast pig and bottled ale as a cure for
sea-sickness; and that he took these remedies (usually in bed) day after day, with astonishing perseverance. I
may add, for the information of the curious, that they decidedly failed.
The weather continuing obstinately and almost unprecedentedly bad, we usually straggled into this cabin,
more or less faint and miserable, about an hour before noon, and lay down on the sofas to recover; during
which interval, the captain would look in to communicate the state of the wind, the moral certainty of its
changing to-morrow (the weather is always going to improve to- morrow, at sea), the vessel's rate of sailing,
and so forth. Observations there were none to tell us of, for there was no sun to take them by. But a
description of one day will serve for all the rest. Here it is.
The captain being gone, we compose ourselves to read, if the place be light enough; and if not, we doze and
talk alternately. At one, a bell rings, and the stewardess comes down with a steaming dish of baked potatoes,
and another of roasted apples; and plates of pig's face, cold ham, salt beef; or perhaps a smoking mess of rare
hot collops. We fall to upon these dainties; eat as much as we can (we have great appetites now); and are as
long as possible about it. If the fire will burn (it WILL sometimes) we are pretty cheerful. If it won't, we all
remark to each other that it's very cold, rub our hands, cover ourselves with coats and cloaks, and lie down
again to doze, talk, and read (provided as aforesaid), until dinner-time. At five, another bell rings, and the
stewardess reappears with another dish of potatoes - boiled this time - and store of hot meat of various kinds:

not forgetting the roast pig, to be taken medicinally. We sit down at table again (rather more cheerfully than
before); prolong the meal with a rather mouldy dessert of apples, grapes, and oranges; and drink our wine and
CHAPTER II 13
brandy-and-water. The bottles and glasses are still upon the table, and the oranges and so forth are rolling
about according to their fancy and the ship's way, when the doctor comes down, by special nightly invitation,
to join our evening rubber: immediately on whose arrival we make a party at whist, and as it is a rough night
and the cards will not lie on the cloth, we put the tricks in our pockets as we take them. At whist we remain
with exemplary gravity (deducting a short time for tea and toast) until eleven o'clock, or thereabouts; when the
captain comes down again, in a sou'-wester hat tied under his chin, and a pilot-coat: making the ground wet
where he stands. By this time the card-playing is over, and the bottles and glasses are again upon the table;
and after an hour's pleasant conversation about the ship, the passengers, and things in general, the captain
(who never goes to bed, and is never out of humour) turns up his coat collar for the deck again; shakes hands
all round; and goes laughing out into the weather as merrily as to a birthday party.
As to daily news, there is no dearth of that commodity. This passenger is reported to have lost fourteen
pounds at Vingt-et-un in the saloon yesterday; and that passenger drinks his bottle of champagne every day,
and how he does it (being only a clerk), nobody knows. The head engineer has distinctly said that there never
was such times - meaning weather - and four good hands are ill, and have given in, dead beat. Several berths
are full of water, and all the cabins are leaky. The ship's cook, secretly swigging damaged whiskey, has been
found drunk; and has been played upon by the fire-engine until quite sober. All the stewards have fallen
down-stairs at various dinner-times, and go about with plasters in various places. The baker is ill, and so is the
pastry-cook. A new man, horribly indisposed, has been required to fill the place of the latter officer; and has
been propped and jammed up with empty casks in a little house upon deck, and commanded to roll out
pie-crust, which he protests (being highly bilious) it is death to him to look at. News! A dozen murders on
shore would lack the interest of these slight incidents at sea.
Divided between our rubber and such topics as these, we were running (as we thought) into Halifax Harbour,
on the fifteenth night, with little wind and a bright moon - indeed, we had made the Light at its outer entrance,
and put the pilot in charge - when suddenly the ship struck upon a bank of mud. An immediate rush on deck
took place of course; the sides were crowded in an instant; and for a few minutes we were in as lively a state
of confusion as the greatest lover of disorder would desire to see. The passengers, and guns, and water-casks,
and other heavy matters, being all huddled together aft, however, to lighten her in the head, she was soon got

off; and after some driving on towards an uncomfortable line of objects (whose vicinity had been announced
very early in the disaster by a loud cry of 'Breakers a-head!') and much backing of paddles, and heaving of the
lead into a constantly decreasing depth of water, we dropped anchor in a strange outlandish-looking nook
which nobody on board could recognise, although there was land all about us, and so close that we could
plainly see the waving branches of the trees.
It was strange enough, in the silence of midnight, and the dead stillness that seemed to be created by the
sudden and unexpected stoppage of the engine which had been clanking and blasting in our ears incessantly
for so many days, to watch the look of blank astonishment expressed in every face: beginning with the
officers, tracing it through all the passengers, and descending to the very stokers and furnacemen, who
emerged from below, one by one, and clustered together in a smoky group about the hatchway of the
engine-room, comparing notes in whispers. After throwing up a few rockets and firing signal guns in the hope
of being hailed from the land, or at least of seeing a light - but without any other sight or sound presenting
itself - it was determined to send a boat on shore. It was amusing to observe how very kind some of the
passengers were, in volunteering to go ashore in this same boat: for the general good, of course: not by any
means because they thought the ship in an unsafe position, or contemplated the possibility of her heeling over
in case the tide were running out. Nor was it less amusing to remark how desperately unpopular the poor pilot
became in one short minute. He had had his passage out from Liverpool, and during the whole voyage had
been quite a notorious character, as a teller of anecdotes and cracker of jokes. Yet here were the very men who
had laughed the loudest at his jests, now flourishing their fists in his face, loading him with imprecations, and
defying him to his teeth as a villain!
The boat soon shoved off, with a lantern and sundry blue lights on board; and in less than an hour returned;
CHAPTER II 14
the officer in command bringing with him a tolerably tall young tree, which he had plucked up by the roots, to
satisfy certain distrustful passengers whose minds misgave them that they were to be imposed upon and
shipwrecked, and who would on no other terms believe that he had been ashore, or had done anything but
fraudulently row a little way into the mist, specially to deceive them and compass their deaths. Our captain
had foreseen from the first that we must be in a place called the Eastern passage; and so we were. It was about
the last place in the world in which we had any business or reason to be, but a sudden fog, and some error on
the pilot's part, were the cause. We were surrounded by banks, and rocks, and shoals of all kinds, but had
happily drifted, it seemed, upon the only safe speck that was to be found thereabouts. Eased by this report, and

by the assurance that the tide was past the ebb, we turned in at three o'clock in the morning.
I was dressing about half-past nine next day, when the noise above hurried me on deck. When I had left it
overnight, it was dark, foggy, and damp, and there were bleak hills all round us. Now, we were gliding down a
smooth, broad stream, at the rate of eleven miles an hour: our colours flying gaily; our crew rigged out in their
smartest clothes; our officers in uniform again; the sun shining as on a brilliant April day in England; the land
stretched out on either side, streaked with light patches of snow; white wooden houses; people at their doors;
telegraphs working; flags hoisted; wharfs appearing; ships; quays crowded with people; distant noises; shouts;
men and boys running down steep places towards the pier: all more bright and gay and fresh to our unused
eyes than words can paint them. We came to a wharf, paved with uplifted faces; got alongside, and were made
fast, after some shouting and straining of cables; darted, a score of us along the gangway, almost as soon as it
was thrust out to meet us, and before it had reached the ship - and leaped upon the firm glad earth again!
I suppose this Halifax would have appeared an Elysium, though it had been a curiosity of ugly dulness. But I
carried away with me a most pleasant impression of the town and its inhabitants, and have preserved it to this
hour. Nor was it without regret that I came home, without having found an opportunity of returning thither,
and once more shaking hands with the friends I made that day.
It happened to be the opening of the Legislative Council and General Assembly, at which ceremonial the
forms observed on the commencement of a new Session of Parliament in England were so closely copied, and
so gravely presented on a small scale, that it was like looking at Westminster through the wrong end of a
telescope. The governor, as her Majesty's representative, delivered what may be called the Speech from the
Throne. He said what he had to say manfully and well. The military band outside the building struck up "God
save the Queen" with great vigour before his Excellency had quite finished; the people shouted; the in's
rubbed their hands; the out's shook their heads; the Government party said there never was such a good
speech; the Opposition declared there never was such a bad one; the Speaker and members of the House of
Assembly withdrew from the bar to say a great deal among themselves and do a little: and, in short,
everything went on, and promised to go on, just as it does at home upon the like occasions.
The town is built on the side of a hill, the highest point being commanded by a strong fortress, not yet quite
finished. Several streets of good breadth and appearance extend from its summit to the water-side, and are
intersected by cross streets running parallel with the river. The houses are chiefly of wood. The market is
abundantly supplied; and provisions are exceedingly cheap. The weather being unusually mild at that time for
the season of the year, there was no sleighing: but there were plenty of those vehicles in yards and by-places,

and some of them, from the gorgeous quality of their decorations, might have 'gone on' without alteration as
triumphal cars in a melodrama at Astley's. The day was uncommonly fine; the air bracing and healthful; the
whole aspect of the town cheerful, thriving, and industrious.
We lay there seven hours, to deliver and exchange the mails. At length, having collected all our bags and all
our passengers (including two or three choice spirits, who, having indulged too freely in oysters and
champagne, were found lying insensible on their backs in unfrequented streets), the engines were again put in
motion, and we stood off for Boston.
Encountering squally weather again in the Bay of Fundy, we tumbled and rolled about as usual all that night
CHAPTER II 15
and all next day. On the next afternoon, that is to say, on Saturday, the twenty-second of January, an
American pilot-boat came alongside, and soon afterwards the Britannia steam-packet, from Liverpool,
eighteen days out, was telegraphed at Boston.
The indescribable interest with which I strained my eyes, as the first patches of American soil peeped like
molehills from the green sea, and followed them, as they swelled, by slow and almost imperceptible degrees,
into a continuous line of coast, can hardly be exaggerated. A sharp keen wind blew dead against us; a hard
frost prevailed on shore; and the cold was most severe. Yet the air was so intensely clear, and dry, and bright,
that the temperature was not only endurable, but delicious.
How I remained on deck, staring about me, until we came alongside the dock, and how, though I had had as
many eyes as Argus, I should have had them all wide open, and all employed on new objects - are topics
which I will not prolong this chapter to discuss. Neither will I more than hint at my foreigner-like mistake in
supposing that a party of most active persons, who scrambled on board at the peril of their lives as we
approached the wharf, were newsmen, answering to that industrious class at home; whereas, despite the
leathern wallets of news slung about the necks of some, and the broad sheets in the hands of all, they were
Editors, who boarded ships in person (as one gentleman in a worsted comforter informed me), 'because they
liked the excitement of it.' Suffice it in this place to say, that one of these invaders, with a ready courtesy for
which I thank him here most gratefully, went on before to order rooms at the hotel; and that when I followed,
as I soon did, I found myself rolling through the long passages with an involuntary imitation of the gait of Mr.
T. P. Cooke, in a new nautical melodrama.
'Dinner, if you please,' said I to the waiter.
'When?' said the waiter.

'As quick as possible,' said I.
'Right away?' said the waiter.
After a moment's hesitation, I answered 'No,' at hazard.
'NOT right away?' cried the waiter, with an amount of surprise that made me start.
I looked at him doubtfully, and returned, 'No; I would rather have it in this private room. I like it very much.'
At this, I really thought the waiter must have gone out of his mind: as I believe he would have done, but for
the interposition of another man, who whispered in his ear, 'Directly.'
'Well! and that's a fact!' said the waiter, looking helplessly at me: 'Right away.'
I saw now that 'Right away' and 'Directly' were one and the same thing. So I reversed my previous answer,
and sat down to dinner in ten minutes afterwards; and a capital dinner it was.
The hotel (a very excellent one) is called the Tremont House. It has more galleries, colonnades, piazzas, and
passages than I can remember, or the reader would believe.
CHAPTER II 16
CHAPTER III
- BOSTON
IN all the public establishments of America, the utmost courtesy prevails. Most of our Departments are
susceptible of considerable improvement in this respect, but the Custom-house above all others would do well
to take example from the United States and render itself somewhat less odious and offensive to foreigners.
The servile rapacity of the French officials is sufficiently contemptible; but there is a surly boorish incivility
about our men, alike disgusting to all persons who fall into their hands, and discreditable to the nation that
keeps such ill-conditioned curs snarling about its gates.
When I landed in America, I could not help being strongly impressed with the contrast their Custom-house
presented, and the attention, politeness and good humour with which its officers discharged their duty.
As we did not land at Boston, in consequence of some detention at the wharf, until after dark, I received my
first impressions of the city in walking down to the Custom-house on the morning after our arrival, which was
Sunday. I am afraid to say, by the way, how many offers of pews and seats in church for that morning were
made to us, by formal note of invitation, before we had half finished our first dinner in America, but if I may
be allowed to make a moderate guess, without going into nicer calculation, I should say that at least as many
sittings were proffered us, as would have accommodated a score or two of grown-up families. The number of
creeds and forms of religion to which the pleasure of our company was requested, was in very fair proportion.

Not being able, in the absence of any change of clothes, to go to church that day, we were compelled to
decline these kindnesses, one and all; and I was reluctantly obliged to forego the delight of hearing Dr.
Channing, who happened to preach that morning for the first time in a very long interval. I mention the name
of this distinguished and accomplished man (with whom I soon afterwards had the pleasure of becoming
personally acquainted), that I may have the gratification of recording my humble tribute of admiration and
respect for his high abilities and character; and for the bold philanthropy with which he has ever opposed
himself to that most hideous blot and foul disgrace - Slavery.
To return to Boston. When I got into the streets upon this Sunday morning, the air was so clear, the houses
were so bright and gay: the signboards were painted in such gaudy colours; the gilded letters were so very
golden; the bricks were so very red, the stone was so very white, the blinds and area railings were so very
green, the knobs and plates upon the street doors so marvellously bright and twinkling; and all so slight and
unsubstantial in appearance - that every thoroughfare in the city looked exactly like a scene in a pantomime. It
rarely happens in the business streets that a tradesman, if I may venture to call anybody a tradesman, where
everybody is a merchant, resides above his store; so that many occupations are often carried on in one house,
and the whole front is covered with boards and inscriptions. As I walked along, I kept glancing up at these
boards, confidently expecting to see a few of them change into something; and I never turned a corner
suddenly without looking out for the clown and pantaloon, who, I had no doubt, were hiding in a doorway or
behind some pillar close at hand. As to Harlequin and Columbine, I discovered immediately that they lodged
(they are always looking after lodgings in a pantomime) at a very small clockmaker's one story high, near the
hotel; which, in addition to various symbols and devices, almost covering the whole front, had a great dial
hanging out - to be jumped through, of course.
The suburbs are, if possible, even more unsubstantial-looking than the city. The white wooden houses (so
white that it makes one wink to look at them), with their green jalousie blinds, are so sprinkled and dropped
about in all directions, without seeming to have any root at all in the ground; and the small churches and
chapels are so prim, and bright, and highly varnished; that I almost believed the whole affair could be taken
up piecemeal like a child's toy, and crammed into a little box.
CHAPTER III 17
The city is a beautiful one, and cannot fail, I should imagine, to impress all strangers very favourably. The
private dwelling-houses are, for the most part, large and elegant; the shops extremely good; and the public
buildings handsome. The State House is built upon the summit of a hill, which rises gradually at first, and

afterwards by a steep ascent, almost from the water's edge. In front is a green enclosure, called the Common.
The site is beautiful: and from the top there is a charming panoramic view of the whole town and
neighbourhood. In addition to a variety of commodious offices, it contains two handsome chambers; in one
the House of Representatives of the State hold their meetings: in the other, the Senate. Such proceedings as I
saw here, were conducted with perfect gravity and decorum; and were certainly calculated to inspire attention
and respect.
There is no doubt that much of the intellectual refinement and superiority of Boston, is referable to the quiet
influence of the University of Cambridge, which is within three or four miles of the city. The resident
professors at that university are gentlemen of learning and varied attainments; and are, without one exception
that I can call to mind, men who would shed a grace upon, and do honour to, any society in the civilised
world. Many of the resident gentry in Boston and its neighbourhood, and I think I am not mistaken in adding,
a large majority of those who are attached to the liberal professions there, have been educated at this same
school. Whatever the defects of American universities may be, they disseminate no prejudices; rear no bigots;
dig up the buried ashes of no old superstitions; never interpose between the people and their improvement;
exclude no man because of his religious opinions; above all, in their whole course of study and instruction,
recognise a world, and a broad one too, lying beyond the college walls.
It was a source of inexpressible pleasure to me to observe the almost imperceptible, but not less certain effect,
wrought by this institution among the small community of Boston; and to note at every turn the humanising
tastes and desires it has engendered; the affectionate friendships to which it has given rise; the amount of
vanity and prejudice it has dispelled. The golden calf they worship at Boston is a pigmy compared with the
giant effigies set up in other parts of that vast counting-house which lies beyond the Atlantic; and the almighty
dollar sinks into something comparatively insignificant, amidst a whole Pantheon of better gods.
Above all, I sincerely believe that the public institutions and charities of this capital of Massachusetts are as
nearly perfect, as the most considerate wisdom, benevolence, and humanity, can make them. I never in my life
was more affected by the contemplation of happiness, under circumstances of privation and bereavement, than
in my visits to these establishments.
It is a great and pleasant feature of all such institutions in America, that they are either supported by the State
or assisted by the State; or (in the event of their not needing its helping hand) that they act in concert with it,
and are emphatically the people's. I cannot but think, with a view to the principle and its tendency to elevate
or depress the character of the industrious classes, that a Public Charity is immeasurably better than a Private

Foundation, no matter how munificently the latter may be endowed. In our own country, where it has not,
until within these later days, been a very popular fashion with governments to display any extraordinary
regard for the great mass of the people or to recognise their existence as improvable creatures, private
charities, unexampled in the history of the earth, have arisen, to do an incalculable amount of good among the
destitute and afflicted. But the government of the country, having neither act nor part in them, is not in the
receipt of any portion of the gratitude they inspire; and, offering very little shelter or relief beyond that which
is to be found in the workhouse and the jail, has come, not unnaturally, to be looked upon by the poor rather
as a stern master, quick to correct and punish, than a kind protector, merciful and vigilant in their hour of
need.
The maxim that out of evil cometh good, is strongly illustrated by these establishments at home; as the records
of the Prerogative Office in Doctors' Commons can abundantly prove. Some immensely rich old gentleman or
lady, surrounded by needy relatives, makes, upon a low average, a will a-week. The old gentleman or lady,
never very remarkable in the best of times for good temper, is full of aches and pains from head to foot; full of
fancies and caprices; full of spleen, distrust, suspicion, and dislike. To cancel old wills, and invent new ones,
CHAPTER III 18
is at last the sole business of such a testator's existence; and relations and friends (some of whom have been
bred up distinctly to inherit a large share of the property, and have been, from their cradles, specially
disqualified from devoting themselves to any useful pursuit, on that account) are so often and so unexpectedly
and summarily cut off, and reinstated, and cut off again, that the whole family, down to the remotest cousin, is
kept in a perpetual fever. At length it becomes plain that the old lady or gentleman has not long to live; and
the plainer this becomes, the more clearly the old lady or gentleman perceives that everybody is in a
conspiracy against their poor old dying relative; wherefore the old lady or gentleman makes another last will -
positively the last this time - conceals the same in a china teapot, and expires next day. Then it turns out, that
the whole of the real and personal estate is divided between half-a- dozen charities; and that the dead and gone
testator has in pure spite helped to do a great deal of good, at the cost of an immense amount of evil passion
and misery.
The Perkins Institution and Massachusetts Asylum for the Blind, at Boston, is superintended by a body of
trustees who make an annual report to the corporation. The indigent blind of that state are admitted
gratuitously. Those from the adjoining state of Connecticut, or from the states of Maine, Vermont, or New
Hampshire, are admitted by a warrant from the state to which they respectively belong; or, failing that, must

find security among their friends, for the payment of about twenty pounds English for their first year's board
and instruction, and ten for the second. 'After the first year,' say the trustees, 'an account current will be
opened with each pupil; he will be charged with the actual cost of his board, which will not exceed two dollars
per week;' a trifle more than eight shillings English; 'and he will be credited with the amount paid for him by
the state, or by his friends; also with his earnings over and above the cost of the stock which he uses; so that
all his earnings over one dollar per week will be his own. By the third year it will be known whether his
earnings will more than pay the actual cost of his board; if they should, he will have it at his option to remain
and receive his earnings, or not. Those who prove unable to earn their own livelihood will not be retained; as
it is not desirable to convert the establishment into an alms- house, or to retain any but working bees in the
hive. Those who by physical or mental imbecility are disqualified from work, are thereby disqualified from
being members of an industrious community; and they can be better provided for in establishments fitted for
the infirm.'
I went to see this place one very fine winter morning: an Italian sky above, and the air so clear and bright on
every side, that even my eyes, which are none of the best, could follow the minute lines and scraps of tracery
in distant buildings. Like most other public institutions in America, of the same class, it stands a mile or two
without the town, in a cheerful healthy spot; and is an airy, spacious, handsome edifice. It is built upon a
height, commanding the harbour. When I paused for a moment at the door, and marked how fresh and free the
whole scene was - what sparkling bubbles glanced upon the waves, and welled up every moment to the
surface, as though the world below, like that above, were radiant with the bright day, and gushing over in its
fulness of light: when I gazed from sail to sail away upon a ship at sea, a tiny speck of shining white, the only
cloud upon the still, deep, distant blue - and, turning, saw a blind boy with his sightless face addressed that
way, as though he too had some sense within him of the glorious distance: I felt a kind of sorrow that the
place should be so very light, and a strange wish that for his sake it were darker. It was but momentary, of
course, and a mere fancy, but I felt it keenly for all that.
The children were at their daily tasks in different rooms, except a few who were already dismissed, and were
at play. Here, as in many institutions, no uniform is worn; and I was very glad of it, for two reasons. Firstly,
because I am sure that nothing but senseless custom and want of thought would reconcile us to the liveries and
badges we are so fond of at home. Secondly, because the absence of these things presents each child to the
visitor in his or her own proper character, with its individuality unimpaired; not lost in a dull, ugly,
monotonous repetition of the same unmeaning garb: which is really an important consideration. The wisdom

of encouraging a little harmless pride in personal appearance even among the blind, or the whimsical
absurdity of considering charity and leather breeches inseparable companions, as we do, requires no comment.
Good order, cleanliness, and comfort, pervaded every corner of the building. The various classes, who were
CHAPTER III 19
gathered round their teachers, answered the questions put to them with readiness and intelligence, and in a
spirit of cheerful contest for precedence which pleased me very much. Those who were at play, were
gleesome and noisy as other children. More spiritual and affectionate friendships appeared to exist among
them, than would be found among other young persons suffering under no deprivation; but this I expected and
was prepared to find. It is a part of the great scheme of Heaven's merciful consideration for the afflicted.
In a portion of the building, set apart for that purpose, are work- shops for blind persons whose education is
finished, and who have acquired a trade, but who cannot pursue it in an ordinary manufactory because of their
deprivation. Several people were at work here; making brushes, mattresses, and so forth; and the cheerfulness,
industry, and good order discernible in every other part of the building, extended to this department also.
On the ringing of a bell, the pupils all repaired, without any guide or leader, to a spacious music-hall, where
they took their seats in an orchestra erected for that purpose, and listened with manifest delight to a voluntary
on the organ, played by one of themselves. At its conclusion, the performer, a boy of nineteen or twenty, gave
place to a girl; and to her accompaniment they all sang a hymn, and afterwards a sort of chorus. It was very
sad to look upon and hear them, happy though their condition unquestionably was; and I saw that one blind
girl, who (being for the time deprived of the use of her limbs, by illness) sat close beside me with her face
towards them, wept silently the while she listened.
It is strange to watch the faces of the blind, and see how free they are from all concealment of what is passing
in their thoughts; observing which, a man with eyes may blush to contemplate the mask he wears. Allowing
for one shade of anxious expression which is never absent from their countenances, and the like of which we
may readily detect in our own faces if we try to feel our way in the dark, every idea, as it rises within them, is
expressed with the lightning's speed and nature's truth. If the company at a rout, or drawing-room at court,
could only for one time be as unconscious of the eyes upon them as blind men and women are, what secrets
would come out, and what a worker of hypocrisy this sight, the loss of which we so much pity, would appear
to be!
The thought occurred to me as I sat down in another room, before a girl, blind, deaf, and dumb; destitute of
smell; and nearly so of taste: before a fair young creature with every human faculty, and hope, and power of

goodness and affection, inclosed within her delicate frame, and but one outward sense - the sense of touch.
There she was, before me; built up, as it were, in a marble cell, impervious to any ray of light, or particle of
sound; with her poor white hand peeping through a chink in the wall, beckoning to some good man for help,
that an Immortal soul might be awakened.
Long before I looked upon her, the help had come. Her face was radiant with intelligence and pleasure. Her
hair, braided by her own hands, was bound about a head, whose intellectual capacity and development were
beautifully expressed in its graceful outline, and its broad open brow; her dress, arranged by herself, was a
pattern of neatness and simplicity; the work she had knitted, lay beside her; her writing-book was on the desk
she leaned upon. - From the mournful ruin of such bereavement, there had slowly risen up this gentle, tender,
guileless, grateful-hearted being.
Like other inmates of that house, she had a green ribbon bound round her eyelids. A doll she had dressed lay
near upon the ground. I took it up, and saw that she had made a green fillet such as she wore herself, and
fastened it about its mimic eyes.
She was seated in a little enclosure, made by school-desks and forms, writing her daily journal. But soon
finishing this pursuit, she engaged in an animated conversation with a teacher who sat beside her. This was a
favourite mistress with the poor pupil. If she could see the face of her fair instructress, she would not love her
less, I am sure.
I have extracted a few disjointed fragments of her history, from an account, written by that one man who has
CHAPTER III 20
made her what she is. It is a very beautiful and touching narrative; and I wish I could present it entire.
Her name is Laura Bridgman. 'She was born in Hanover, New Hampshire, on the twenty-first of December,
1829. She is described as having been a very sprightly and pretty infant, with bright blue eyes. She was,
however, so puny and feeble until she was a year and a half old, that her parents hardly hoped to rear her. She
was subject to severe fits, which seemed to rack her frame almost beyond her power of endurance: and life
was held by the feeblest tenure: but when a year and a half old, she seemed to rally; the dangerous symptoms
subsided; and at twenty months old, she was perfectly well.
'Then her mental powers, hitherto stinted in their growth, rapidly developed themselves; and during the four
months of health which she enjoyed, she appears (making due allowance for a fond mother's account) to have
displayed a considerable degree of intelligence.
'But suddenly she sickened again; her disease raged with great violence during five weeks, when her eyes and

ears were inflamed, suppurated, and their contents were discharged. But though sight and hearing were gone
for ever, the poor child's sufferings were not ended. The fever raged during seven weeks; for five months she
was kept in bed in a darkened room; it was a year before she could walk unsupported, and two years before
she could sit up all day. It was now observed that her sense of smell was almost entirely destroyed; and,
consequently, that her taste was much blunted.
'It was not until four years of age that the poor child's bodily health seemed restored, and she was able to enter
upon her apprenticeship of life and the world.
'But what a situation was hers! The darkness and the silence of the tomb were around her: no mother's smile
called forth her answering smile, no father's voice taught her to imitate his sounds:- they, brothers and sisters,
were but forms of matter which resisted her touch, but which differed not from the furniture of the house, save
in warmth, and in the power of locomotion; and not even in these respects from the dog and the cat.
'But the immortal spirit which had been implanted within her could not die, nor be maimed nor mutilated; and
though most of its avenues of communication with the world were cut off, it began to manifest itself through
the others. As soon as she could walk, she began to explore the room, and then the house; she became familiar
with the form, density, weight, and heat, of every article she could lay her hands upon. She followed her
mother, and felt her hands and arms, as she was occupied about the house; and her disposition to imitate, led
her to repeat everything herself. She even learned to sew a little, and to knit.'
The reader will scarcely need to be told, however, that the opportunities of communicating with her, were
very, very limited; and that the moral effects of her wretched state soon began to appear. Those who cannot be
enlightened by reason, can only be controlled by force; and this, coupled with her great privations, must soon
have reduced her to a worse condition than that of the beasts that perish, but for timely and unhoped-for aid.
'At this time, I was so fortunate as to hear of the child, and immediately hastened to Hanover to see her. I
found her with a well-formed figure; a strongly-marked, nervous-sanguine temperament; a large and
beautifully-shaped head; and the whole system in healthy action. The parents were easily induced to consent
to her coming to Boston, and on the 4th of October, 1837, they brought her to the Institution.
'For a while, she was much bewildered; and after waiting about two weeks, until she became acquainted with
her new locality, and somewhat familiar with the inmates, the attempt was made to give her knowledge of
arbitrary signs, by which she could interchange thoughts with others.
'There was one of two ways to be adopted: either to go on to build up a language of signs on the basis of the
natural language which she had already commenced herself, or to teach her the purely arbitrary language in

common use: that is, to give her a sign for every individual thing, or to give her a knowledge of letters by
CHAPTER III 21
combination of which she might express her idea of the existence, and the mode and condition of existence, of
any thing. The former would have been easy, but very ineffectual; the latter seemed very difficult, but, if
accomplished, very effectual. I determined therefore to try the latter.
'The first experiments were made by taking articles in common use, such as knives, forks, spoons, keys, &c.,
and pasting upon them labels with their names printed in raised letters. These she felt very carefully, and soon,
of course, distinguished that the crooked lines SPOON, differed as much from the crooked lines KEY, as the
spoon differed from the key in form.
'Then small detached labels, with the same words printed upon them, were put into her hands; and she soon
observed that they were similar to the ones pasted on the articles.' She showed her perception of this similarity
by laying the label KEY upon the key, and the label SPOON upon the spoon. She was encouraged here by the
natural sign of approbation, patting on the head.
'The same process was then repeated with all the articles which she could handle; and she very easily learned
to place the proper labels upon them. It was evident, however, that the only intellectual exercise was that of
imitation and memory. She recollected that the label BOOK was placed upon a book, and she repeated the
process first from imitation, next from memory, with only the motive of love of approbation, but apparently
without the intellectual perception of any relation between the things.
'After a while, instead of labels, the individual letters were given to her on detached bits of paper: they were
arranged side by side so as to spell BOOK, KEY, &c.; then they were mixed up in a heap and a sign was made
for her to arrange them herself so as to express the words BOOK, KEY, &c.; and she did so.
'Hitherto, the process had been mechanical, and the success about as great as teaching a very knowing dog a
variety of tricks. The poor child had sat in mute amazement, and patiently imitated everything her teacher did;
but now the truth began to flash upon her: her intellect began to work: she perceived that here was a way by
which she could herself make up a sign of anything that was in her own mind, and show it to another mind;
and at once her countenance lighted up with a human expression: it was no longer a dog, or parrot: it was an
immortal spirit, eagerly seizing upon a new link of union with other spirits! I could almost fix upon the
moment when this truth dawned upon her mind, and spread its light to her countenance; I saw that the great
obstacle was overcome; and that henceforward nothing but patient and persevering, but plain and
straightforward, efforts were to be used.

'The result thus far, is quickly related, and easily conceived; but not so was the process; for many weeks of
apparently unprofitable labour were passed before it was effected.
'When it was said above that a sign was made, it was intended to say, that the action was performed by her
teacher, she feeling his hands, and then imitating the motion.
'The next step was to procure a set of metal types, with the different letters of the alphabet cast upon their
ends; also a board, in which were square holes, into which holes she could set the types; so that the letters on
their ends could alone be felt above the surface.
'Then, on any article being handed to her, for instance, a pencil, or a watch, she would select the component
letters, and arrange them on her board, and read them with apparent pleasure.
'She was exercised for several weeks in this way, until her vocabulary became extensive; and then the
important step was taken of teaching her how to represent the different letters by the position of her fingers,
instead of the cumbrous apparatus of the board and types. She accomplished this speedily and easily, for her
intellect had begun to work in aid of her teacher, and her progress was rapid.
CHAPTER III 22
'This was the period, about three months after she had commenced, that the first report of her case was made,
in which it was stated that "she has just learned the manual alphabet, as used by the deaf mutes, and it is a
subject of delight and wonder to see how rapidly, correctly, and eagerly, she goes on with her labours. Her
teacher gives her a new object, for instance, a pencil, first lets her examine it, and get an idea of its use, then
teaches her how to spell it by making the signs for the letters with her own fingers: the child grasps her hand,
and feels her fingers, as the different letters are formed; she turns her head a little on one side like a person
listening closely; her lips are apart; she seems scarcely to breathe; and her countenance, at first anxious,
gradually changes to a smile, as she comprehends the lesson. She then holds up her tiny fingers, and spells the
word in the manual alphabet; next, she takes her types and arranges her letters; and last, to make sure that she
is right, she takes the whole of the types composing the word, and places them upon or in contact with the
pencil, or whatever the object may be."
'The whole of the succeeding year was passed in gratifying her eager inquiries for the names of every object
which she could possibly handle; in exercising her in the use of the manual alphabet; in extending in every
possible way her knowledge of the physical relations of things; and in proper care of her health.
'At the end of the year a report of her case was made, from which the following is an extract.
'"It has been ascertained beyond the possibility of doubt, that she cannot see a ray of light, cannot hear the

least sound, and never exercises her sense of smell, if she have any. Thus her mind dwells in darkness and
stillness, as profound as that of a closed tomb at midnight. Of beautiful sights, and sweet sounds, and pleasant
odours, she has no conception; nevertheless, she seems as happy and playful as a bird or a lamb; and the
employment of her intellectual faculties, or the acquirement of a new idea, gives her a vivid pleasure, which is
plainly marked in her expressive features. She never seems to repine, but has all the buoyancy and gaiety of
childhood. She is fond of fun and frolic, and when playing with the rest of the children, her shrill laugh sounds
loudest of the group.
'"When left alone, she seems very happy if she have her knitting or sewing, and will busy herself for hours; if
she have no occupation, she evidently amuses herself by imaginary dialogues, or by recalling past
impressions; she counts with her fingers, or spells out names of things which she has recently learned, in the
manual alphabet of the deaf mutes. In this lonely self-communion she seems to reason, reflect, and argue; if
she spell a word wrong with the fingers of her right hand, she instantly strikes it with her left, as her teacher
does, in sign of disapprobation; if right, then she pats herself upon the head, and looks pleased. She sometimes
purposely spells a word wrong with the left hand, looks roguish for a moment and laughs, and then with the
right hand strikes the left, as if to correct it.
'"During the year she has attained great dexterity in the use of the manual alphabet of the deaf mutes; and she
spells out the words and sentences which she knows, so fast and so deftly, that only those accustomed to this
language can follow with the eye the rapid motions of her fingers.
'"But wonderful as is the rapidity with which she writes her thoughts upon the air, still more so is the ease and
accuracy with which she reads the words thus written by another; grasping their hands in hers, and following
every movement of their fingers, as letter after letter conveys their meaning to her mind. It is in this way that
she converses with her blind playmates, and nothing can more forcibly show the power of mind in forcing
matter to its purpose than a meeting between them. For if great talent and skill are necessary for two
pantomimes to paint their thoughts and feelings by the movements of the body, and the expression of the
countenance, how much greater the difficulty when darkness shrouds them both, and the one can hear no
sound.
'"When Laura is walking through a passage-way, with her hands spread before her, she knows instantly every
one she meets, and passes them with a sign of recognition: but if it be a girl of her own age, and especially if it
be one of her favourites, there is instantly a bright smile of recognition, a twining of arms, a grasping of
CHAPTER III 23

hands, and a swift telegraphing upon the tiny fingers; whose rapid evolutions convey the thoughts and feelings
from the outposts of one mind to those of the other. There are questions and answers, exchanges of joy or
sorrow, there are kissings and partings, just as between little children with all their senses."
'During this year, and six months after she had left home, her mother came to visit her, and the scene of their
meeting was an interesting one.
'The mother stood some time, gazing with overflowing eyes upon her unfortunate child, who, all unconscious
of her presence, was playing about the room. Presently Laura ran against her, and at once began feeling her
hands, examining her dress, and trying to find out if she knew her; but not succeeding in this, she turned away
as from a stranger, and the poor woman could not conceal the pang she felt, at finding that her beloved child
did not know her.
'She then gave Laura a string of beads which she used to wear at home, which were recognised by the child at
once, who, with much joy, put them around her neck, and sought me eagerly to say she understood the string
was from her home.
'The mother now sought to caress her, but poor Laura repelled her, preferring to be with her acquaintances.
'Another article from home was now given her, and she began to look much interested; she examined the
stranger much closer, and gave me to understand that she knew she came from Hanover; she even endured her
caresses, but would leave her with indifference at the slightest signal. The distress of the mother was now
painful to behold; for, although she had feared that she should not be recognised, the painful reality of being
treated with cold indifference by a darling child, was too much for woman's nature to bear.
'After a while, on the mother taking hold of her again, a vague idea seemed to flit across Laura's mind, that
this could not be a stranger; she therefore felt her hands very eagerly, while her countenance assumed an
expression of intense interest; she became very pale; and then suddenly red; hope seemed struggling with
doubt and anxiety, and never were contending emotions more strongly painted upon the human face: at this
moment of painful uncertainty, the mother drew her close to her side, and kissed her fondly, when at once the
truth flashed upon the child, and all mistrust and anxiety disappeared from her face, as with an expression of
exceeding joy she eagerly nestled to the bosom of her parent, and yielded herself to her fond embraces.
'After this, the beads were all unheeded; the playthings which were offered to her were utterly disregarded;
her playmates, for whom but a moment before she gladly left the stranger, now vainly strove to pull her from
her mother; and though she yielded her usual instantaneous obedience to my signal to follow me, it was
evidently with painful reluctance. She clung close to me, as if bewildered and fearful; and when, after a

moment, I took her to her mother, she sprang to her arms, and clung to her with eager joy.
'The subsequent parting between them, showed alike the affection, the intelligence, and the resolution of the
child.
'Laura accompanied her mother to the door, clinging close to her all the way, until they arrived at the
threshold, where she paused, and felt around, to ascertain who was near her. Perceiving the matron, of whom
she is very fond, she grasped her with one hand, holding on convulsively to her mother with the other; and
thus she stood for a moment: then she dropped her mother's hand; put her handkerchief to her eyes; and
turning round, clung sobbing to the matron; while her mother departed, with emotions as deep as those of her
child.
* * * * * *
'It has been remarked in former reports, that she can distinguish different degrees of intellect in others, and
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that she soon regarded, almost with contempt, a new-comer, when, after a few days, she discovered her
weakness of mind. This unamiable part of her character has been more strongly developed during the past
year.
'She chooses for her friends and companions, those children who are intelligent, and can talk best with her;
and she evidently dislikes to be with those who are deficient in intellect, unless, indeed, she can make them
serve her purposes, which she is evidently inclined to do. She takes advantage of them, and makes them wait
upon her, in a manner that she knows she could not exact of others; and in various ways shows her Saxon
blood.
'She is fond of having other children noticed and caressed by the teachers, and those whom she respects; but
this must not be carried too far, or she becomes jealous. She wants to have her share, which, if not the lion's, is
the greater part; and if she does not get it, she says, "MY MOTHER WILL LOVE ME."
'Her tendency to imitation is so strong, that it leads her to actions which must be entirely incomprehensible to
her, and which can give her no other pleasure than the gratification of an internal faculty. She has been known
to sit for half an hour, holding a book before her sightless eyes, and moving her lips, as she has observed
seeing people do when reading.
'She one day pretended that her doll was sick; and went through all the motions of tending it, and giving it
medicine; she then put it carefully to bed, and placed a bottle of hot water to its feet, laughing all the time
most heartily. When I came home, she insisted upon my going to see it, and feel its pulse; and when I told her

to put a blister on its back, she seemed to enjoy it amazingly, and almost screamed with delight.
'Her social feelings, and her affections, are very strong; and when she is sitting at work, or at her studies, by
the side of one of her little friends, she will break off from her task every few moments, to hug and kiss them
with an earnestness and warmth that is touching to behold.
'When left alone, she occupies and apparently amuses herself, and seems quite contented; and so strong seems
to be the natural tendency of thought to put on the garb of language, that she often soliloquizes in the FINGER
LANGUAGE, slow and tedious as it is. But it is only when alone, that she is quiet: for if she becomes sensible
of the presence of any one near her, she is restless until she can sit close beside them, hold their hand, and
converse with them by signs.
'In her intellectual character it is pleasing to observe an insatiable thirst for knowledge, and a quick perception
of the relations of things. In her moral character, it is beautiful to behold her continual gladness, her keen
enjoyment of existence, her expansive love, her unhesitating confidence, her sympathy with suffering, her
conscientiousness, truthfulness, and hopefulness.'
Such are a few fragments from the simple but most interesting and instructive history of Laura Bridgman. The
name of her great benefactor and friend, who writes it, is Dr. Howe. There are not many persons, I hope and
believe, who, after reading these passages, can ever hear that name with indifference.
A further account has been published by Dr. Howe, since the report from which I have just quoted. It
describes her rapid mental growth and improvement during twelve months more, and brings her little history
down to the end of last year. It is very remarkable, that as we dream in words, and carry on imaginary
conversations, in which we speak both for ourselves and for the shadows who appear to us in those visions of
the night, so she, having no words, uses her finger alphabet in her sleep. And it has been ascertained that when
her slumber is broken, and is much disturbed by dreams, she expresses her thoughts in an irregular and
confused manner on her fingers: just as we should murmur and mutter them indistinctly, in the like
circumstances.
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